


youre coasting through the heat lap trial

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, aka dave goes 50s, because what else will they bond over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer dreams, ripped at the seams...</p><p>do trolls even have summers<br/>shut up, davwe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	youre coasting through the heat lap trial

Rose turns down your offer of an old movies sleepover. Actually, everyone's been turning it down, trolls, humans, even the guys in the dream bubbles. Maybe it was a bad idea to invite the greaser troll first thing. But hey, if you, Dave Strider, are going to do an old movies sleepover, then _Grease_ definitely has to be on the list. Musicals might be one of the few things that you and Bro unironically enjoyed.

Not that you were going to admit that to Rose. She had enough to psychoanalyze you with already.

Either way, you'd done your best to canvas the neighborhood. It was down to you and—shit, what was his name? One of those old Greek guys, the Titans. Atlas? Uranus? There was a knock on the door. "Cronus, that's it," you muttered as you headed for the door. One thing you loved about your godtier outfit was the unlimited pajama potential. By the time you opened the door, the Knight suit had morphed into a comfy shirt and pants, and you were seriously considering calling up the coif and cape to send it the Snuggie route.

The knock came again, just seconds before you tugged the door open. "Uh." The fishtroll stared at you for a couple seconds, then held up a backpack. "I brought popcorn? And cotton candy. You humans didn't havwe cotton candy, right?"

"Nah dude, we totally had cotton candy. That shit is awesome." You stand back to let him in. It's kind of weird to see him in what must be the troll version of pajamas. It actually looks about the same as your outfit, just more purple, and with his squiggly lines instead of your awesome gear. "Bathroom's to your left, sodas in the fridge, don't touch my AJ. Grab some couch so I can set the movies up."

"Are you sure that's the only thing you want me to grab, Davwe?" Holy shit, you didn't even know if trolls had eyebrows or not. Question answered.

"Yeah, make yourself useful and grab us some sodas." This guy's obviously used to rejection. He shrugs and heads off before you even finish your sentence, and you turn back to the TV.

 

* * *

 

You put the musicals at the bottom of the list. If you're going to embarrass yourself horribly, you at _least_ want to be sugar-high and sleep-drunk enough to blame it on something else. Cronus doesn't seem to care, at least, he seems like he's enjoying the movies as much as you are. It took you a while to realize that you could cheat by looking at his fins. But you're enjoying yourself, seriously, you are. Something you didn't think you could do at an old movies night without Bro (don't think about it) or being drunk (so tempting, but you squash that thought down, because Rose, Rose, Rose—).

 _The Godfather_ , _My Neighbor Totoro_ , _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_... Your choices were rather eclectic, even if they didn't cover the whole range you wanted to go over. He's _really_ enjoying _The Breakfast Club_ , and you're thinking that _Casablanca_ or _The Maltese Falcon_ might be a good next choice. But you find yourself bypassing the choice  _Star Wars_ series and skipping over  _The Lord of the Rings_ , and you wind up grabbing  _West Side Story_ from the bottom of the pile, which knocks _Grease_ right into your lap.

Cronus looks down at you, and you flush to match your pajamas. "So, uh, which of these do you want to watch next?" He gives it some serious consideration, then points at _Grease_.

"Wve can alvways wvatch the other one after that." You pop the movie in, and he settles back into the couch. "Your turn to get sodas, Davwe."

"Don't call me Davwe," you grumble, mocking his accent. Still, you're cool enough to go get the drinks as a catchy opening starts in the background. You've seen it before anyway.

 

Soda for Cronus, AJ for you. Ah, sweet apple goodness. And you're absolutely sure that this one hasn't been tampered with.

 

* * *

 

Well, _damn_. Cronus does some impressive work on "Summer Nights", and keeps up on "Sandra Dee". He even pulls off a decent "Hopelessly Devoted to You". You're better, of course, but you're seriously considering hitting up the Alchemiter and getting the guy a leather jacket. He's had it easy so far, with two Pink Ladies songs, but you know what's coming up.

"Hey Cronus." He glances up at you, and you nod at the screen, where John Travolta's walking up to a piece of crap that passes for a car. "You might like this song. See if you can keep up." You've definitely got Danny Zuko in the bag, but maybe he can be your Kenickie.

He rolls his eyes and downs the rest of his apple juice (after his performance, he'd earned it. Well. One bottle). "Wvhat, I havwen't proved myself yet?"

The godtier jammies have already provided a red, leather-ish looking jacket for you, and you stand up, grinning. "Why, this car could be...systematic—"

Cronus hops up as well. "Hydromatic—"

You glare at him. "Ultramatic—" Oh, it's _so_ on.

 

* * *

 

The both of you collapse onto the couch, laughing. Alright, you have to hand it to him. The title of Danny Zuko, that is. "Holy shit, dude, where'd you learn to sing like that?"

He shrugs, not really meeting your eyes. "I wvrite my ovwn songs sometimes. Don't get too many listeners." It doesn't seem like something he admits too often. Hell, his fins even droop a little.

Some part of you twinges, slipping back to middle school. Hiding red eyes behind shades, being lonely...dammit. You look up at him, as if you hadn't expected that. "Seriously? I used to mix some tracks with Harley. Send me some of your stuff, maybe we could do something."

His fins flare out, and he looks pathetically hopeful for a moment. Kicked puppy syndrome all up in this business. "Really? I mean, yeah, that might be cool." You had to give this troll props, he recovered pretty quick.

"Good to hear. Now shut up, it's getting good." He huffs at you indignantly, and you toss a pillow at him. Three pointer, from half court, ladies and gentlemen, Dave Strider.

 

* * *

 

Some of these scenes weigh kinda heavy on him. Or at least, it feels like that from your end. He's practically curled up on himself when Sandy and Danny have their fight at the drive-in. Kicked puppy all over again. You groan internally, then sling an arm over his shoulders. He tenses up. "Better not be trying that on me, chief."

"Don't call me chief."

 

* * *

 

"You knowv, I feel really bad for Rizzo," he pipes up, watching her walk through Rydell alone.

You blink down at him. That's not really something you expected to hear. "Alright then. How come?"

Cronus is quiet, and for a moment you think he didn't hear. "She's alone. Because of stupid gossip. And it's not evwen her fault, she doesn't deservwe it." You're kind of wondering if he can relate to that. "She made a mistake, sure, but it's not like she KILLED someone." Ahhh.

"Cronus. Let me explain a thing." You slap your hands on either side of his face, cupping his cheeks and turning his head to face you. "This, Cronus, is a musical. Musicals _always_ have happy endings."

He stares at you in complete and utter shock for a moment, then snorts and practically keels over laughing (just like you did when Bro explained it to you).

 

Now he's watching the screen with a grin, waiting to see how it turns out.

 

* * *

 

The two of you pass out somewhere in-between _West Side Story_ and _The Wizard of Oz._ He's made a stack of "up next" movies, with _Toy Story_ at the top. It technically doesn't count, but shit, it's already past 2010. And it's freaking _Toy Story_. Still, Dorothy's barely started up the yellow brick road when you both crash out hard. He's sprawled out across the couch and half on top of you, and you'd shove him off, but he's got this air conditioning type cooling thing going on, and it's just too much effort.

When _he_ wakes up, he practically jumps off of you, scooting onto his side of the couch. Actually, he kind of knocks you off the couch in the process. "Oh shit, Davwe! Are you okay?"

You groan and roll over. "Nah, you just killed me. I'm dying. No wait, I'm melting. I'm melllltiiinnnnnnng!" He stares at you blankly, and you shake your head and sigh. "See now, that'd be funny if we actually got through that last movie."

"Uh. Wvell. Maybe wee could. You knowv, vwatch it some other time? At my place, I'll do the snacks." It's almost adorable, how awkwardly he's fidgeting around. "Of course, I'd havwe to get more food, seeing as more people'd actually showv up to mine." He smirks at you, with shark-like teeth, and you throw another pillow at his face.

 

"Time and date, fishboy. And you better have AJ."

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the Ask Blog Stories Project, written as a gift for (...well I tried, but I can't find your main blog. magic of the internet, help me?) who is the mod of Stridermonium (http://stridermonium.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wK63eUyk-iM ((Greased Lightning - Grease Soundtrack))


End file.
